


slowly sickly burning

by gracecavendish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1449778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracecavendish/pseuds/gracecavendish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz shuts himself away after the events at the Hub, it's up to Simmons to bring him back. Post 1x17</p>
            </blockquote>





	slowly sickly burning

Before joining the team, they’d never known true threat, or darkness. They’d never felt themselves on the precipice of losing one another. They’d never felt as though part of themselves had been pulled away.

_I’m not whole anymore_

She finds him wedged between the shelf and the wall of the storage cupboard. He’d told her he was just going to get a bandage.

He’d lied.

She places her hand on his knee and is shocked to see his face flinch and his body withdraw into himself.

“You shouldn’t touch me.”

Her hand drifts back to her side and she tries to swallow her guilt.

“I thought I’d lost you for a minute,” she mumbles, tracing her finger along the edge of the shelf.

“I thought you were dead, _again_.” The acid in his voice is clear when he affirms the fact that he’s felt the sickening hopelessness, that moment where she was gone from the world more than once, and more times than she could even imagine.

“What do you want me to say?” She’s almost desperate now, because he’s acting icy and pushing himself away from her, an action that would seem difficult when she’s merely a few inches from his face, but he’s doing it all the same. Because Fitz will always be part of her but right now he’s drifting away. It’s almost as if she’s the old oak tree that still stands in the back garden of her childhood home, and Fitz is the early morning mist that slips through her branches and places wintry drops on her leaves, leaving her to thaw.

“I’m tired Jemma, I’m just so _tired_.” His voice breaks on the last word and the sobs violently rip their way out of his chest,  the darkness of the room feels suffocating and her shadow across the wall seems more like an eerie reminder of how easily she could disappear.

“Leo,” she murmurs, hands reaching out to push back his curls but he snaps back so quickly, violently that his head smacks against the wall. He barely registers the pulsing pain, he’s been hit on the back of the head before, and this time he’s not closing his eyes, he’s not letting her make the choice.

“I killed someone,” he chokes out, eyes boring into the floor.

“Fitz, you can’t blame yourself, you didn’t have a choice-”

“Choice? Jemma I picked up the gun and I shot him, I ripped away his life and yes he was a bad guy and he could’ve hurt May but, I killed him. I’m a killer. I’m wrong.”

“Fitz, _please_.” She makes for his hand but again he snatches it away.

“You shouldn’t touch me,” he says again, but this time his voice is less vehement and more far away. A dazed, disconnected boy, reminiscent of the one she first met at the academy has appeared in front of her and she wants to shake his shoulders and wish Fitz back, back to what he was before.

But she can’t.

“I was scared too you know, I am scared, I heard everything Leo, I heard them threaten you and I heard the gunfire,” there are tears falling freely now but she doesn’t move to wipe them away.

He does.

“For a moment I envisioned a world without you in it, I saw it, it brushed against my fingers and I can’t think of anything that would leave me feeling more hollow,” she tells him as his thumb softly brushes against her cheek. Her eyes close and she wonders how such a simple act can feel so intimate, like he’s touching her in a way so private she should be surprised, because they never venture into such a place. But they’re here now and she isn’t going to stop it because they need this. When her eyes are shut a thousand names and faces flash before her, all the people she’s ever met through SHIELD, and now she’ll never know who was a friend and who could’ve snatched her life away if they were given the chance.

“Alexander Teller,” Fitz whispers quietly, because he just knows what she’s thinking about and Jemma’s eyes snap open.

“What?”

“From the Academy,” Fitz says, “He was a neuroscientist, well he claimed to be, and back then I wasn’t sure how he even made it through the door but what if…”

“HYDRA placed him there?” Jemma finishes, because that’s what she always does, picks up from the place he left off, completes his incomplete and makes the whole.

“HYDRA surely placed their eggs in the wrong basket with an idiot like Teller,” Fitz responds, a small smile appearing on his features, and she can’t help but give one back.

“No wonder they’ve been uncovered, I bet he left their secret files open on his desktop or something,” she says, eyes seeking his and when they finally meet and he really looks at her, she allows herself to breathe out. He recognises her relief and as if it was an involuntary action, he opens his arms up and she crawls into them, fitting against his chest just so.

“Please don’t shut me out,” she mumbles against his neck. He merely nods against her, she can still feel him shaking and unsure, but his touch is reassuring, because even though he may sometimes pull away, he’ll never let go.

They wait as the tide pulls in and the clouds come creeping back.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :)


End file.
